Chapter 47

This cold, cutting tone and utterly exhausted demeanor stood like a solid wall before Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun.

Sheng Xuan looked at Su Zhelan's thin figure huddled beside the medicine box. The frustration and impatience he had felt earlier deflated like a balloon punctured by a needle. His Adam's apple bobbed, and the fierceness on his face vanished, replaced by an awkward and helpless anxiety.

"Ze Lan..." He lowered his voice, sounding flustered, as if afraid that raising his voice would startle the person in front of him, "I...I didn't mean to disturb you! I just...I just wanted to come and see you! To see how you are!"

He stammered incoherently, like a big dog eager to defend itself, "You...you should rest! Rest!" He waved his hands frantically, his body unconsciously taking half a step back, as if Su Zhelan's side had become an invisible forbidden zone.

Xiao Qiyun's gaze never left Su Zhelan's back. The darkness deep in his eyes was overwhelmed by Su Zhelan's words "only to heal the wounded" and her current exhaustion, and a barely perceptible fluctuation appeared.

The moment Sheng Xuan finished speaking, he immediately spoke, his voice regaining its usual gentle and calm tone, but all probing and sharpness were gone, leaving only just the right amount of care and "understanding": "Indeed. So am I." Xiao Qiyun nodded slightly, his tone natural and gentle, quietly setting aside his dignity as crown prince, "Seeing that you are well, I am at ease."

He didn't approach, but instead, quite naturally, he made his statement, his gaze falling on Su Zhelan's lowered nape, with a hint of accommodating "concession": "Rest assured. Once you're asleep..."

He paused for a moment, then wrapped his promise of "I will leave" in concern, speaking it as if it were a matter of course:

"I will leave on my own." The gesture was one of consideration, respect, and an unquestionable promise.

Upon hearing Xiao Qiyun's words, "I'll leave after you fall asleep," Sheng Xuan suddenly remembered what Su Zhelan had just said: "Rest is a blessing," and immediately became anxious.

He didn't even bother to look at Xiao Qiyun, and hurriedly added in a muffled voice to Su Zhelan's retreating figure, speaking so fast it was as if he was afraid she would change her mind:

"Yes, yes, yes! You go to sleep! We...we'll leave now!" He nodded vigorously, as if emphasizing his determination.

As he spoke, he turned around almost simultaneously, yanked open the heavy tent flap, and his tall figure disappeared quickly into the darkness outside, as if afraid that staying even a second longer would disturb Su Zhelan's rest.

The curtains swayed in the wind, making a muffled thud.

Xiao Qiyun didn't leave immediately. He stood there, watching Su Zhelan's back, still frozen in exhaustion, the moonlight casting flickering shadows on his face through the swaying curtain.

After a moment, as if completing a final assessment, he said very softly to Su Zhelan's retreating figure, "The night is cold and the dew is heavy, take care."

Then he turned around, his moon-white figure, with his usual composure, disappearing into the night outside the tent. The curtain fell behind him, blocking out the last ray of light.

Su Zhelan was finally the only one left in the tent.

The flame of the oil lamp in the corner was still flickering, but it brought an unprecedented silence.

The tent curtains were drawn, blocking out the last glimmer of light and the noise of the outside world.

In the small space, only the lonely glow of the oil lamp in the corner and Su Zhelan's shallow, almost silent breathing remained.

Su Zhelan did not lie down immediately. He remained curled up next to the medicine box, only his taut shoulders relaxed, and his head drooped limply onto his bent knees, as if the last bit of strength supporting his frame had been completely drained.

After a long while, he moved his body very slowly, with a feeling of sluggishness as if every bone in his body was protesting, and moved to the "bed" made of a thin straw mat in the corner.

When his body came into contact with the rough mattress and the dry, hard straw underneath, he almost groaned as he let out a long breath.

Without a pillow, he could only rest his head in the crook of his arm, curled up on his side like a young animal seeking its last refuge.

The dim light danced on his blood-stained profile. Exhaustion crashed against the banks of his consciousness like a heavy tide, but at this moment the taut string finally loosened a little, and his thoughts drifted uncontrollably.

It's been almost three months...

Having stumbled and fallen from the chaotic escape from the Shuyu Academy, I stumbled into this military camp filled with the stench of blood and death.

He still remembered the horrific scene when he first arrived at the military medical tent—soldiers with severed limbs, festering wounds infested with maggots, and a boy writhing on the ground in pain, being bitten by venomous insects… An overwhelming despair almost swallowed him whole.

Every step I took back then was like walking on thin ice, for fear that a single misstep would expose my shameful past and cause me to lose this small haven.

but……

Unconsciously, his fingertips brushed against the thin calluses left by the rough medical kit on his wrist. The pain was real, the bloodstains were real, and the wounded soldier's rough gratitude and the occasional steady breathing... were even more real.

Little by little, like wild grass struggling to take root on a dry riverbed, he actually survived, and even... felt a little bit of being rooted.

He used silver needles to stop the bleeding and herbs to heal bones. With the help of folk remedies he gleaned from piles of corpses and a bit of luck, he actually managed to snatch several lives from the clutches of the poisonous insect.

It was only with great difficulty that I managed to temporarily suppress those clamorous thoughts that were taking over my mind.

The fiery and impetuous gaze in Shuyu Courtyard, the profound depth hidden beneath Xiao Qiyun's gentle exterior, the suffocating feeling brought about by what were called "likes" and "possessions," and the fear brought about that night at the temple fair... all seemed to have been diluted and replaced by the bitterness of medicine and the touch of flesh and blood in the exhausting battles of the military camp day after day.

He thought he was almost forgetting that, at least here, he was the "useful" military doctor Su Zhelan, no longer anyone's appendage or prey.

But... a sudden surge of indescribable bitterness and helplessness welled up in my throat.

The commotion tonight has shattered this fragile tranquility.

Fear, like a cold snake, coiled around my heart once more.

The deeper fear lies in... what if!

What if... what if one of them... really gets injured... or even... on this battlefield where arrows could fall or poison could explode at any moment?

Su Zhelan's heart clenched suddenly, a sharp pain piercing through her weary numbness.

He dared not think further. The image, though only vaguely present, sent chills down his spine, even overshadowing the burning sensation of the scar on the back of his neck.

He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face deeper into the rough fabric of his arms, trying to shut out the terrible thought.

Tired...so tired...

The physical exhaustion felt like an immense burden, each breath carrying the rough sensation of sandpaper being rubbed against his skin. The mental strain from dealing with the Bone-Corroding Gu, and the intense mental tension from dealing with those two... had already drained the last vestige of his clarity.

My thoughts became increasingly chaotic and heavy, gradually blurring into a hazy, heavy mess.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered, the light grew dimmer and dimmer, and finally, with a "poof," the oil burned out and the lamp went out completely.

The tent was plunged into absolute darkness.

Even the last vestiges of vague consciousness were swallowed up by boundless fatigue and pulled into the deep sea.

The figure curled up on the straw mat finally succumbed to the heavy and chaotic vortex of thoughts, even its breathing gradually becoming long and even. In its deep sleep, its taut fingers unconsciously curled slightly, as if trying to grasp something, but ultimately released in vain.

Only his body remained on the cold, hard "bed," rising and falling weakly with his breathing.

He fell asleep. Like a stubborn rock tossed onto the beach by a storm, he temporarily cast aside all the disturbances and worries, sinking into a brief and precious state of unconsciousness.

As the tent flaps fell heavily, Su Zhelan's figure was completely hidden inside. Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun stood a few steps away in the shadows outside the tent. The wind and sand, carrying a biting chill, swept across the camp. In the distance, the faint sounds of watchtowers and the groans of wounded soldiers drifted in; the night grew deeper.

The two did not leave.

Sheng Xuan stood rooted to the spot like a pillar, the hem of his black cloak fluttering in the wind.

He scratched his head in frustration, glancing every now and then at the closed tent flap, muttering under his breath, "Really gone? Really not going to say anything? Worked all day and couldn't even get a hot meal... that lousy porridge..."

Xiao Qiyun stood quietly to the side, the moonlight outlining his cool and aloof silhouette in his long robe.

He gazed toward the tent, his deep eyes seemingly able to penetrate the thick fabric and land on the huddled figure inside. The faint glow of the oil lamp inside the tent shone through the gaps in the curtains, becoming the only flickering point of light in the night, reflected in Xiao Qiyun's deep eyes.

Time flows thickly through the wind and sand.

“If you’re worried, just stay quiet.” Xiao Qiyun’s voice deepened, carrying an unsettling sense of control. “We can hear what’s going on inside the tent, and the lights are still on.”

The two remained silent.

Sheng Xuan stood frozen in place like a trapped beast, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked. Xiao Qiyun, on the other hand, remained calm and composed, patiently waiting.

finally……

The only flickering, dim yellow light inside the tent trembled very slightly, like a wisp of smoke blown away by the wind.

Then, it was as if it had been extinguished by an invisible hand.

A soft "poof" sound.

The last faint glimmer of light vanished completely through the gap in the curtain.

Darkness completely swallowed the small tent, leaving only its heavy outline blending into the boundless night, like Su Zhelan's disappearing figure, silent and still.

The sudden darkness caused Xiao Qiyun, who had been staring intently at the spot, to tense up almost imperceptibly.

He took a step forward almost immediately!

The pale figure was about to approach the tightly closed curtain!

"What are you doing?!" Sheng Xuan took a step forward, reacting with lightning speed. His tall and sturdy body instantly blocked Xiao Qiyun's path to the tent, like an insurmountable wall! His voice was low, but it carried an undeniable force.

Caught off guard by his sudden stop, Xiao Qiyun halted in his tracks. A crack finally appeared in his gentle mask as his brows furrowed and his voice turned cold: "He's asleep. I'll just go in and check on him, and then come out. I won't disturb him." It was a declaration that seemed almost self-evident.

"Look at my ass!" Sheng Xuan's temper flared up instantly, and he forgot to lower his voice, which was filled with intense agitation.

“Didn’t you see what he looked like just now?! He was so exhausted he couldn’t even straighten his back! He couldn’t even speak! ‘Lying down is a gift’! Did you hear that?! It’s a ‘gift’!” He pointed to the dark, silent tent, his tone filled with heartache and urgency.

"I finally get to sleep for a bit! What if you go in now and wake him up? What do you want to see?! To see him curled up in a pitiful ball?!"

He was almost shouting, but his voice softened at the last few sentences, carrying a rare, rugged tenderness.

Xiao Qiyun was speechless after Sheng Xuan's blunt outburst. He looked at the undisguised worry and anxiety on Sheng Xuan's face, and then at the small tent that was completely dark and isolated from the outside world.

Su Zhelan's words, spoken with an air of utter exhaustion, were like a thorn stuck in his heart, preventing him from taking another step forward.

Seeing Xiao Qiyun's silence, Sheng Xuan knew his words had worked, but his frustration only intensified. He took a deep breath, suppressing his agitation, and turned his gaze to the dark, crouching mountain shadows in the distance—that was the direction of the cult.

His eyes sharpened, and his voice became low and serious:

"Listen, the most important thing right now isn't for you to go in and take a look at him!"

He turned to Xiao Qiyun, his eyes like those of a hawk in the night: "Military life is more grueling than we imagined! Su Zhelan has struggled here for almost three months, enduring day and night! But those cult members! They are the root of all evil! Those lunatics look at Zhelan like he's some kind of elixir of immortality, and there's that scar on the back of Zhelan's neck... and all that nonsense! If we don't uproot these persistent ghosts, he'll never have a peaceful day in his life!"

Sheng Xuan's words were like a cold blade, cleaving through the deathly silence of the night and revealing the real, imminent threat facing the two of them.

Sheng Xuan looked at Xiao Qiyun with an unprecedented clarity and determination in his eyes. "The most important thing right now is to figure out what the relationship is between the cult and Zhelan! Dig up their secrets and find out why they are so determined to get back at Zhelan! Only by destroying their stronghold and cutting off their hopes can we pull Zhelan out of this hellhole! That's what it means to help! Do you understand?"

Xiao Qiyun listened quietly to Sheng Xuan's well-organized analysis, his deep eyes flashing with a constant light.

Sheng Xuan's words undoubtedly struck at the heart of his thoughts.

He turned his gaze back to the dark tent. There was only deathly silence there, a brief moment of peace that Su Zhelan had managed to obtain only by exerting all his strength.

Forcing your way in will only satisfy your immediate concerns and will not help at all; in fact, it may even backfire.

Cults...

The temple fair attack, the delirious babbling of the fanatic cultists, the bizarre nature of the bone-corroding Gu, the mysterious "holy seal" on the back of the neck... all of these things cast shadows over Su Zhelan, and without resolving them, Su Zhelan would never have peace. And the solution, indeed, did not lie with the sleeping figure inside the tent, but rather in the deeper shadows of Black Wind Pass.

Xiao Qiyun's tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed, a glint of approval flashing in his eyes. He took one last, deep look at the tent blending into the night, as if trying to etch that silence into his very being. Then, he slowly turned around, his moon-white robes fluttering slightly in the wind.

"Let's go." Xiao Qiyun's voice returned to its usual calmness, even carrying a hint of barely perceptible chill. "Back to the main camp."

"Okay," Sheng Xuan responded immediately, eager to leave this suffocating and unchangeable place, as if only by taking action could he vent his frustration.

The two said no more, and one after the other, their figures quickly blended into the deeper night and sandstorm of the military camp.